Lucky Green
by Kaeru Shisho
Summary: A St. Patrick's Day story with repercussions after Duo dyes Quatre's llamas bright green for a holiday joke- and then can't wash it out.


**Lucky Green**

**Summary:** A St. Patrick's Day story with repercussions after Duo dyes Quatre's llamas bright green for a holiday joke- and then can't wash it out.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

**Warnings:** AU, male/male pairings

**A/N:** This is dedicated to my lovely Irish editor and generous St. Patrick's Day loving friend and all my other kind readers. I feel lucky to have you in my life.

* * *

I'd pulled three all-nighters in a row. All with Agent Maxwell. I'd been selected at the last minute to participate in another. With Duo. Again. That I wasn't willing to fight the assignment said something about my state of mind.

I hadn't been looking forward to going home alone anyway. "Mission accepted."

After lunch, I set off for the locker room, where I changed out of my Preventers-issue uniform and into ordinary-looking street clothes. When I returned to my desk, I checked the weather, chance of rain and high winds—nasty, and played Tetris until it was time to begin our stake out. Since we'd done this repeatedly, the steps had become routine, and Duo did not require reminding that I would stop at his desk to collect him.

His eyes left the monitor to acknowledge me as his fingers continued to type.

"Heero! Right on the mark. Sit. Take a load off while I finish this- Crap! Hit the 'caps lock' again."

"Duo, why are you wearing driving gloves to type on a computer?"

"Ah… I can't get the color off them."

He rolled the cuff past the thumb opening to show me the skin of his palm.

"Duo, why are your hands green?"

"It's a long story best saved for the long, dull night we got ahead of ourselves."

I did not press him or speculate about what the idiot had done this time. I'd wait for the story. I wondered how he felt about our assignment enough to comment,"The fourth night in a row, I might add."

If he'd minded the night duty so much, he could have complained. I could have. Since we'd both accepted the work orders that meant we didn't mind them. Possibly liked the opportunity it afforded us- me, at least- to spend time together. Alone.

"Noted," he said. No protest or grumbling, just typing. "There. Email done, posted, and now, let's get the hell outta this building for awhile."

"That's why I'm here. Waiting. For you."

The stake out required we collect an unmarked car from the Preventers' garage first. Duo always liked to do this and I didn't care, so I let him sign it out, drive, and park it along a street where we could watch the occupants of a bakery haul goods into a delivery truck.

"If the infiltration team's information is correct," Duo said with a cursory flip of the small flashlight over the notes he was reading, "and there was no reason to assume that—"

He looked over at me and our eyes met, matching smile for smile. I nodded so as to agree with him. I didn't really care why we were here, frankly. I just hoped to make the most of my time with Duo, my friend, who I'd like to get to know a lot better.

"- some of those pastry boxes should be heavier than normal. Those should be obvious even from a distance to detect and were reported to contain illegal devices being smuggled out of the Sanc Kingdom."

He chuckled, adding, "I had a Danish there once that was a threat to society, for sure."

I enjoyed his jokes. His sense of humor was one of his best characteristics, that he was gay was another. We shared friends who were gay and a work-place that wasn't particularly gay-friendly. If we weren't partners at work, I would have made a move long ago. I hadn't wanted to spoil that functioning, professional relationship, although, that excuse had worn pretty thin lately.

I thought about kissing him. Asking him out. Something. Say something! Now!

He recoiled from the concentrated glare I'd forgotten I'd been giving him. Damn!

I cast about for something else to stare at. The building's lights were out except one dim bulb at the back door exit. The truck was gone. The street vacant. Loose newspapers blew across the street and became plastered against a window.

Duo took up the conversation again. "Says here in Bob's report that the truck went out on delivery half an hour ago 'containing nothing remarkable'- his words- and 'probably won't return for hours'—also his words. Pretty skimpy on the fine points, huh? We could call him and see if there's more to the pattern?"

Duo was asking for my opinion, which was nice, _respectful_, I thought. He often weighed my ideas fairly, which I liked.

I wondered more about _why_ we'd been given the assignment than about the details of execution, which were trivial. But not too much wondering about the "why" either. Certainly not enough to question orders.

I considered this particular mission to be a waste of our energy and expertise, but since I liked being with Duo—and I did, a lot, when it came down to the final analysis, which it occurred to me I was spending far too much time on- I was perfectly happy squandering my skills on the mission.

Duo was staring at me, waiting for an answer. I had no perceptions or wisdom to share except that I was sure Agent Bob hadn't any either.

I shook my head. "Don't bother interrupting his dinner break. I'm sure his time estimates are close enough," and glanced at my watch. "We're going to be here for awhile, it seems. You might as well tell me about the green skin."

Duo sucked in a deep breath, smiled, rubbed his face with a hand then blew out the air until he wheezed.

"You are drawing this out."

"Yes I am." He inhaled deeply, held his breath for a few seconds, and then let it out slowly. "Okay, I'm ready now. You see, in retrospect it's not as funny as I thought it would be."

"Ah."

"Ah, indeed. I pulled a St. Patrick's Day prank on Quatre."

"I thought pranks were reserved for April Fool's Day."

"Not between us, apparently. He started it with the car-stealing trick he played at Valentine's?"

I remembered that debacle only a few weeks ago. Quatre had gifted him with a shiny new sports car and had it delivered to Duo's address. When Duo touched the door handle, the car alarm went off and the police arrived. Duo insisted it was a gift for him, but on further examination of the car's registration number, it turned out to be one Zechs had planned to give to Wufei.

After some fuss, it had all worked out in the end. Duo did not get a car, but Wufei did, and Quatre brushed it off to the police as a big misunderstanding—and got away with it.

I thought, wrongly, in fact, that that stupid act would mark the beginning and the end of their practical joke period.

"So early this morning I, ah, dyed Quatre's llamas bright green for a holiday joke. To start with, llamas are pretty funny looking animals, but give'em bright green fur? A riot, let me tell you."

"That must have taken a while."

Duo glowed with pride. "And I did a really good job of it, considering. I got this foamy stuff, so it went on easy. I just had to mush it around. Keep it out of their eyes and all. The white llama came out a little owlish, but she wasn't too keen on me messing with her face. Over all, it took a couple hours to put on and another to rinse and another to dry."

"Four hours? Quatre should appreciate your dedication to doing a good job."

"Free time's precious and all? Yeah. That's a good perspective to take with him. Maybe _you_ should talk to him about it. You know, get him to see the finer points?"

"It depends. You haven't told me about what happened to your skin."

"Oh, right. That's wasn't supposed to happen, for sure. When I went to clean up, I couldn't wash it out of my clothes or off my hands. I re-read the label and where—I SWEAR I checked!—the price tag rubbed off, there was this warning in teeny, tiny, print saying it was permanent and all. So… there you go."

Despite my better judgment, I smiled. "Quatre will be pissed."

"Yes, he will, er, was. I'd already figured that he'd be a tad upset with a temporary color change. There's this llama show he's taking them to today, you know?"

No, I hadn't known. "I don't keep tabs on his plans," I revealed.

"Well, I do because he was emailing me daily about it all week with times and locations so I'd be sure to come and all. Um, course by now he's already been and gone. He's been trying to get in touch all day. A-a-anyway."

I was examining his facial expressions when he turned to me, looking as contrite as I'd ever seen him.

"Confession time."

"Okay," I said in a manner that hopefully conveyed both my interest and automatic forgiveness status.

"I, ah, so, I signed us up for this mission yesterday with the plan to get me as far away from the scene of the crime as possible."

"Which isn't very far."

"No, it isn't."

"It's really no bother to me," I confessed in turn.

"Yeah? Thanks. It's just… I didn't know just how dire things would be by now, what with the _permanent _green and all, or I would have sent us to the outer colonies on some long shot investigation of Une's. I wasn't thinking of a potential _real_ crime scene as in 'death by Winner's hands'."

I knew he was being overly dramatic. Winner wouldn't kill him barehanded, not with the Maguanac corps at his beck and call. "You'll have to face the music sooner or later," I reminded him.

"I choose later, thank you."

This was the perfect moment for me to say something honest and appealing and let him know how I felt about him. But what? I combed my brain for the clever words that might entice him, while letting my eyes skim over the scene outside.

No one stirred in the alley; no cars passed by; no delivery truck appeared. Another gust of wind rocked the car and sent a trash can rolling into the alley. I shut off the view to think better. I must have closed my eyes for several minutes, when I heard Duo sounding far away.

"Hey, 'Ro. I'm wide awake thinking about the trouble I've made for myself with Quat. And I got this leftover coffee. If you can nap or rest your eyes a bit, why don't I take the first watch here?"

"Okay." I'd had long hours all week and now I felt spent, my energy low. I wouldn't be able to outrun a three legged cat if I didn't get a few hours of sleep. Besides, maybe I would think of what to say to him in the meantime.

(o)

I suspected I was dreaming from the start. I wasn't inside a car on stake out, for one thing, and I knew Duo and I had been doing that last I recalled. Still, I found it hard to deny the feeling of solidity beneath my feet as I strolled along the rock path.

Shafts of sunlight broke through low hanging clouds, splashing the grass and setting dew drops to twinkling—that alone proved I had to be dreaming. Reality never painted scenery that cartoony. I let my feet carry me where they would, which wasn't far. A field of violets, purple-blue hued, scented lightly, thousands of them, and there nestled in the very center was Duo Maxwell. The very same man who I knew was behind the wheel of our stake out car.

I liked the look of this one better.

His braid had unwound, so hair was floating cloud-like around his shoulders and down from there to pool on the green leaves and flowers where he sat. He must have heard the sound of my footsteps on the gravel, because he looked up and smiled.

He smiled as he tucked another violet blossom in his hair, weaving the stem a little to keep it in place. It was one of many. My dream flowers matched the color of his eyes exactly, meaning that there were multiple hues ranging from blues to violet.

"Hi, 'Ro!" this illusionary, but striking back-to-nature-Duo called out to me. "Look at all the flowers! Pretty, huh?"

"Not as… attractive as you," I said. It was a dream. I could be as sappy as I wanted.

And he liked it. He smiled widely at me.

And then he stood and he was completely naked. The long hair hid nothing interesting.

I'm afraid I stared, and his cock was superbly interesting.

"Want to go for a swim, Heero?"

"It's too cold for swimming," I told him. I bent to take off my shoes and socks anyway, only to discover I was totally nude. I had to appreciate how dreams could make everything more convenient.

He grabbed my hand. It was Duo's. I could tell from the calluses. What a strange detail it was to include in a dream!

He tugged on my arm. "It's a hot spring. C'mon!"

I felt my feet sinking into warm water and expected- looked forward to- the rest of me becoming submerged any second, but instead the water turned emerald green and the air turned cold.

And then I woke up.

I was in the car on stake out, resting my head uncomfortably against the window. It was dark out, but I recognized Duo in the driver's seat, hair in a tight braid and dressed in jeans and loose sweatshirt, chatting loudly on the secured phone Preventers provided its agents.

I missed the naked nymph version profoundly.

"Oh yeah? So soon? Well, that's just great. Thanks."

"What?" I asked, groggy-headed still. My constitution allowed me to shake off the lethargy in an instant, if I had needed to or wanted to, but what I _really_ wanted was to return to the dream world of that beautiful, alluring Duo.

Still this one was my friend, partner in arms, and real.

"Hey, you're awake. Cool. Stan just buzzed from the switchboard and says the other stake out caught the delivery truck unloading some illicit gadgets instead of delicious tortes at the east end of town. Arrests were made. So, guess what that means—?"

"We're done here for the night."

"You got it in one. Wanna go celebrate with a beer or something?"

Or _something_. "I think you need to face the music. Go to Quatre, confess. Take it like a man."

"Aw, man. That's just so-."

The poor guy looked so beaten down I nearly laughed.

"Yeah, guess you're right. Might as well get it over with, huh? He won't be more forgiving in a day or two."

"He won't," I agreed.

"Mind if I stop off at my place so I can change my shirt? Spilled coffee when the phone buzzed. Nearly jumped outta my skin."

_Skin_. "Let's turn in the car first."

"Or keep it? I took transit into work today. This car would be handier to get out to Quat's place, especially if it starts raining."

"We can take mine."

"You'll go with me?"

This idea seemed to please him a great deal. I received his shining smile, just like I had in my dream. The night was looking up.

"Yes."

"Thanks! That'll make the whole thing go a lot better. He's not likely to commit murder with a witness hanging around."

(o)

When I brought my car around, fully anticipating an entertaining night- which I could construe into an even more exciting one if the real Duo was anything like my dream one- Duo was on his cell phone, gesticulating wildly at first and then gripping his braid and clutching it to his chest.

He turned his wild eyes on me. "You were wrong. So wrong!"

"About what?"

As soon as I asked, he popped into the car and jammed his phone against my ear. "Listen…"

Quatre was jabbering on the other end so I interrupted. "Winner?"

"Heero? Don't let him go. Bring him in festooned in manacles if necessary. I want him here and alive as soon as possible!"

I let my imagination go with that imagery. I might quite happily festoon Duo with manacles, but maybe not take him to Quatre. I'd keep him.

Locked to the bed…

"What's so funny?" Duo asked me.

You in chains and nothing else at my mercy. "Quatre," I said. He was still ranting in my ear.

"My beautiful babies with lineages longer than … Duo's braid… took 'Most Festive,' which was a long shot from the "Best in Show" award that they deserved."

"There are other shows, aren't there? Another chance?"

"They are GREEN, Heero. GREEN. Chartreuse and emerald."

"Are those the animals' new names?" I shouldn't have tried with the jokes. He wasn't in the mood.

Duo knew that and groaned.

Quatre's evil laughter shook my eardrum. It might haunt me forever.

"I want _him_ delivered to my doorstep in twenty minutes, Heero. Don't try to protect him either, or I'll send Rashid to collect him. On second thought, maybe I _ought_ to do that anyway—?"

No! I didn't want Winner's goons laying a hand on my Duo, er, on Duo. "We'll be there once I get off the phone and leave the Preventers' parking lot. What have you in store for him that's so important it can't wait until tomorrow?"

"I have the dye ready and waiting."

"The _dye_? You're going to _dye_ Duo?"

To which Duo started screaming, "Die, Duo, die! That's what he said! He said he'd do it! I'm a dead man already. Mad Murdering Maguanacs!"

"Duo, shut up. I can't hear what Quatre's saying."

Duo didn't shut up, but he lowered the volume and muttered nonsense to the tip of his braid. It was very endearing to watch, actually.

"Not _all_ of him, just his braid." Quatre clipped off the words precisely so I'd not misunderstand.

"I see." I understood his intentions now. There was no way that was I going to let Quatre harm the hair on his head. Not after I'd seen it loose. That may have been only a dream, but it was a damn fine dream and I was determined to make portions of it come true. The flowers weren't necessary. "We have a stop to make first." This was true. "Preventers' business." This was not true.

"Okay, I'll give you an extra few minutes."

"I'll never say you're not a generous man, Quatre."

I think that shut him up. I handed Duo back the secured phone, but he simply let it slide to the floor of the car. He seemed out of sorts. "First stop, your place. I have a plan."

"Swell."

Duo changed into a ragged t-shirt that wouldn't look bad splashed in green. I located the information I needed on his computer, so when he was ready, I was ready, too.

"One more stop to make."

"What for? I'm doomed."

"Not if we do this right."

"Do what? You got something up your sleeve?" He looked hopeful. I liked him looking at me that way. "Tell me."

"Yes and don't beg. I'm not giving you the details. If I did, you'd act over-confident around him and spoil everything. Quatre can read you like a book, you know."

"What about you? He can see right through your machinations."

"He won't be interested in what I'm up to. He gave me the impression that he was very focused on you and you alone."

"No kidding. Okay. S'long as what you do saves my hair."

I'd explained it so he understood that Quatre was going to punish him by dying his braid green and not end his life, but this knowledge seemed to lower his spirits more.

"I'll do my best." I may have had ulterior motives, but I wanted his braid intact, too.

I parked at the pharmacy and went it to get what I needed. Duo stayed in the car, sulking. When I returned, I opened his door.

"Get into the back seat."

He looked at me as if I'd just hammered his pet cat to oblivion.

"Hurry." The wind caught the door and nearly wrenched it off the car's body in a sudden gust. "Now! This needs to soak in and we haven't much time."

He complied, but he moved slowly.

"I have to undo your braid," I explained as I glided into the back beside him and hauled the door shut behind me.

"Can you see what you're doing?" he asked.

"Well enough." I squeezed a large blob of the protectant, a brand used by swimmers to keep out chlorine, into my hands and rubbed it into a strand.

"God, I _hate_ this," he said.

He hated my touching his hair? I loved it. I loved it a lot. I was loving the feel of running my fingers through it. I didn't want to stop.

"I'm not hurting it at all," I told him. "This is good for it, in fact."

"Oh. If you say so."

"I do." More blobs, more working it in. "Your hair is amazing. It's longer than I envisioned it." In my dream…

"The braiding shortens it," he said glumly.

I had no idea what he was thinking, what he thought about me. He didn't dislike me or he wouldn't have trusted me do this, and I knew he didn't have a boyfriend, no person he'd dated more than once or twice in the last few months. Since I'd transferred to this Preventers agency and been partnered together, we spent more time at work in each other's company than with anyone else. That plus my friend Trowa reported to me any names of men Duo had dated. He'd considered asking him out before falling head over heels for Quatre.

We had everything going in our favor, except that I was too shy to ask him out and he was too much a professional; at least, I guessed that was our problem.

I had no idea what he was thinking or _if _he thought about me, but I thought about him a lot of the time. He was awfully quiet now, sitting still while I messed with his hair. I hoped he wasn't hating me for doing this, because I enjoyed the process.

It took me, sadly, only ten minutes to saturate all his hair. I'd have stretched out the evening activity longer, if it hadn't been for Quatre waiting for us to show. "There."

"Done?"

"With that part. I'll re-braid it for you."

He touched a rope of hair I'd separated from the rest. "Ugh! That feels greasy and awful."

"It has to soak in then it won't." I hoped. "It won't matter as long as it does the trick."

"If you think having dirty, greasy hair will scare Quat off-task, you got another thing coming. He'll fuss and get snippy, but he'll be hell-bent on turning it green anyway."

I placed a hand on each shoulder and turned him to face me. "We'll see."

"I'd rather he just beat me up."

"Black and blue?"

"Yeah, black and blue, green and greener. Now, there's _another_ color combo I wasn't _feeling_ this week courtesy of Quatre Winner."

I wondered what he'd say if I told him how adorable he was when he grumbled and pouted? I decided not to chance making him feel insulted and kept my thoughts to myself. He also chose to remain silent while I completed the braid, pulling each strand as tight and smooth as possible, and tying it off at the end. I patted it fondly, but I couldn't meet his gaze. His face was so close, his lips near.

"Better go," I whispered.

"Do we have to?" he whispered back.

Had I been any kind of intelligent animal, I would have answered no and taken him into my arms and kissed him.

Robotically I replied, "Yes. Quatre's waiting. Duty calls," or some such stupid string of comments like that.

"Right."

I don't remember the drive across town, but I do recall getting out of the car and climbing the sweep of stairs leading to the over-sized Winner front door, because halfway there, Duo grabbed my hand and held it. Not a word, just grabbed my hand. It was wonderful and I didn't say a thing either. We simply arrived at the door hand-in-hand as if we'd been doing it for years.

I was so aware of his hand in mine and my heart was pounding so hard that I didn't notice Quatre standing in the open door until Duo tugged me forward.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, skip the niceties, Quat, and just get this over with."

He was holding my hand. It fit perfectly in mine. It was the same size, warm, firm, Duo's.

"—have it all set up in the bathroom. One vat of light green and one of dark. I think one dip in the light first followed by the dark, but only the tip in the dark. A striped effect. What do you think?"

Duo removed his hand and folded his arms. I told Quatre what I thought of his plan. I wasn't nice about it either since I blamed him for Duo retracting his hand. I missed it as if it were a part of me now.

"Why, Heero! That's not at all polite."

Trowa was stirring a bucket of green in the bathtub. "Hey."

"Hey," I answered back. "He's put you up to helping him?"

"Yeah."

His sappy expression made me wonder if I wanted a boyfriend. I couldn't imagine my face looking that way; I didn't want it to, and yet… Trowa was happy. And satisfied. And when Duo came into the room and my pulse shot up, I forgot what the problem with a boyfriend could be.

I nearly struck Winner when he reached for Duo's braid. He made a face and dropped it quickly. "You should really take better care of your hair, Duo."

"I do!"

"It could use a wash."

"I'll do that when you're done here." Duo's eyes blazed. "Just get this over with."

"All right. Just remember, you deserve this."

"Skip the lecture."

Duo sat in smoldering silence as Quatre dipped his braid into first one dye and then the lower third into the darker one. Trowa stood by and watched, amused by the entire process, I imagined. Mercifully, it was over in a couple minutes.

Quatre held up his gloved hands. "Well, that should do it, unless you want me to rinse and dry—"

"No. I'm good to go." He wrapped a splotchy towel around the tight braid and rolled it into a ball for carrying. "Catcher later."

Trowa moved away from the wall. "Good look for you."

"Nothin' personal, but fuck you, Barton." Duo looked around for me, tucked his hairball under an arm, took my hand, and started for the door.

I was floating with pride. He held my hand. Mine. I cast a look at him and caught him blinking. I thought he might cry so I didn't stare. I kept my eyes straight ahead and aimed for the door.

Quatre and Trowa trailed behind, the one feeling bad and the other trying to be philosophical and failing to connect; at least, nothing they said was connecting to me.

Duo flung himself into the passenger seat and I pulled away from the curb. He wasn't crying but he wasn't smiling either. I didn't know what to say, so I suppressed my thoughts and just drove.

I turned on the wipers when the first drops fell and watched the dust turn to smudge and get smeared across my field of vision. The blades cut a mostly clear swath on the back swing, improving visibility enough for me to continue drive.

"Where you going?" he asked. "I live the other way."

"My apartment," I told him. I'd been confident this was the best thing to do, to take him to my place, but saying it aloud, I thought I sounded like a slime ball reciting lines from a cheap, lurid novel. "It's, ah, closer."

God, I needed a new approach. "We need to wash your hair, and I'd like to change out of these clothes. You can wear one of my shirts, if you'd like."

I chanced a look askance and he was staring at me with wide eyes. Of course it was dark. He was probably gathering light that way. Or I'd shocked him.

"That sounds… okay." I felt his eyes on me as I turned back to drive. "But this stuff's not coming out with all the washing on earth and the colonies combined."

He'd unwound the towel and laid it across his lap. I could see the green braid coiled on top of dark, wet spots and an index finger stroking a stray coil. I reached over and squeezed his hand. "We'll, see. What I rubbed into it was a protecting oil to shield the hair from chemicals. If it worked as advertised and we clean the hair fast enough, you may be green-free."

"Oh yeah? Do you have conditioner?"

I'm sure I didn't. I had wood conditioner and fabric softener, but neither of those could be what he meant. "What for?"

I heard a snort from Duo's direction.

"Didn't think so, what with your untamed mop. Listen, stop at that store again and I'll run in… maybe not. You'll run in and ask someone for a good _hair_ conditioner. A _good_ one, okay?"

"Okay."

"It has to be thick and creamy to really soak in and make my hair slick and slippery—Hey! Watch the traffic!"

"You distracted me. Shut up." No slippery, creamy talk allowed.

I bought both a shampoo and a conditioner for color-treated, dry hair. I was also talked into a hot oil treatment, probably intended for myself but I felt it might help Duo's hair recover should it require repeated washings. I stopped by the aisle displaying condoms and lube. I'd never bought any of those products and I wondered if I should be prepared tonight. _Maybe_, I berated myself, _you ought to get up the nerve to kiss him first, Yuy_. He'd never even been to my apartment before. I wasn't even sure how to use them! What was I thinking? I passed without making a selection.

I returned to the car a bit splattered by rain, and dropped the paper sack into his lap. I must have chosen well; Duo smiled as he rummaged through the bag. I was happy I hadn't indulged in those other products with him examining all my purchases. I might have scared him off. It had scared me!

"This oughtta be fun. Sure you want me making a mess in your shower?"

"Yes!" I said it so fast, he laughed. The sound of his voice filled me with happiness. I laughed, too. "It'll be… fun."

"All right. If _you_ say so. You have no idea what a pain in the ass all this hair can be." He chuckled again. "Or maybe you do? Look at the time it's wasted already!"

How could I explain that to me any time spent with him wasn't a waste—it was an opportunity to get to know him better. To get closer. I felt closer than ever.

He reached up and smoothed some of my hair. I must have leaned into his hand. He had a gentle touch I yearned to be acquainted with better. He chuckled and pushed back a few more wild bits. "Windy out there."

"It's that storm that's been forecasted all week. I want to get home before it breaks and washes out the streets."

Or _I_ broke. I really didn't care about the weather. I simply couldn't wait to touch him. My self-control was close to slipping. There was the knowing him, seeing him with my eyes, and then there was what I'd learn by smoothing over the uneven weave of his hair and his skin.

I drove fast and found a lucky parking space in front of my door.

"Not into flowers, are you? My manager plants them all over. Kinda livens up the place," he remarked.

"Violets would be nice." I knew I'd like them in his hair.

"Yeah, and roses, bigger plants."

Not roses. They reminded me of Treize Khushrenada, an unhappy reminder of a darker past.

We walked into my apartment and the first thing he said was, "Shit! Don't you live on more than air?"

"I eat." I had a refrigerator full of food and a rice maker.

"I mean LIVE! Where's your TV or game console or…or chairs? What do I sit on?"

"I use the floor pillows."

"Oh. Well, okay. Doesn't matter, does it? All I need is a place to wash my hair, right? You do have a regular bathroom?"

I assured him I did and led the way. While he unwound his braid, I ran the water in the bathtub to get it warm.

"How do you wanna do this?" he asked.

We could both strip and get in together, was what I passed across my mind. "Take off your shirt and kneel on this towel—over the side. The shower handle is removable, see? I can reach it all."

My plan met with his approval and we got started. I lathered shampoo into the damp locks and made buckets of green foam. I rinsed.

"I don't know. It's pretty dark yet. I can't tell if it's all gone or not," he said after examining a strand. "What do you think?"

"We'll repeat the steps until it rinses clear." I would do it all night, if that's what it took.

"All right. This is killing my back though."

The second time made less green suds, the third was hardly colored at all. Fourth time was a charm. "All clear," I said and he crowed, "Ya-hooey!"

"The conditioner remains on the hair one minute before rinsing out."

"Ugh." He groaned but didn't resist as I coated his hair with the slick liquid. "Smells good."

"Coconut," I read off the label, because it didn't smell like any coconut I'd ever eaten.

The bathtub was lined with Duo's hair from top to bottom.

"It must be heavy when it gets wet like this."

"Yep, and my neck muscles are stronger for it. Can we finish this?"

"Fifteen seconds more."

Conditioner does amazing things to hair. His was so soft and slippery as I wrapped it in a bath-sheet-sized towel.

"You could lie down on the living room floor and I could dry it."

His expression said, "You are insane" better than any words.

I rushed to explain. "I have a hair dryer. I dry my hair with my head upside down and it works fast."

"And that completes the explanation for why your hair looks the way it does."

I ignored his comment. He wasn't insulting me, I knew, because he winked at me. "Your hair is too long to dry in that manner, but with it all spread out flat I can dry it fast, I'm sure of it."

"Have it your way." He shook his head as if he might argue, but walked out into the living room, hair cradled in his arms. "I guess here's a good as anywhere." He flopped in the very center of the room, on his back, arms wide. "Do your worst."

I got little help from him, fanning out his hair on the bare wood floor. I wished I'd taken a picture of him, but I didn't think of it at the time. I was busy. The hair dryer required an extension cord and by the time I was ready to go, he looked as if he'd fallen asleep. I know at some point he did while the drying took place. I had a nice time, fondling his glorious hair decorating my humble floor and adoring his bare chest in peace.

I don't know how everything would have turned out, or if would have turned out differently, had I not given into my base urges, leaned in, and kissed him. I barely brushed lips with his, but I felt an exciting tingling all the way to my toes.

Asleep or not, his eyelids flew open and there we were staring into one another's eyes, him flat on his back and me hovering above him on my hands and knees.

"Do that again," he whispered.

If he was going to add, "and so help me I'll kill you," I didn't give him the chance. I pressed him into the floor, dropping onto his chest, weighing him down. I wanted full body contact before I died.

I got more than I bargained for.

I was and am so lucky.

Not only did he let me kiss him again, but he kissed back with energy. A lot of energy could be packed into his firm body, and he was applying much of it to our kiss—and his hands. Those were groping under my shirt. There wasn't much room for both his hands in there, so I moved upright long enough to rip off both my shirt and undershirt.

And felt suddenly awash with shame about undressing, even only partway, in front on him with the intention of fooling around. "We match," I pointed out unnecessarily. "No shirts."

"Uh, huh." He wasn't particularly verbal at that time. More tactile. Very tactile. His hands inspected everything. If he was self-conscious or uncomfortable he didn't show it.

My awkward moment of embarrassment fled and I laughed because the light touches on my sides tickled me a little. He took advantage of my loss of concentration and flipped us over. My head hit the wood. "Damn!"

His turn to laugh. "It's not my fault your floor's hard and you chose this time to get frisky."

His playful attitude emboldened me. "I-I have a softer place."

"Maybe on your head, but not on your body." He ran his hands over my chest and down, down, down until he covered the fabric over my erection.

"Futon," I croaked.

"Ah, gotcha." He rolled off and to his feet in one smooth move. "Lead the way."

This time I took his hand and led him to the adjoining bedroom. Raindrops glistened on the window glass and reflected a little mellow orange from the streetlamp across the street.

"I see." His eye roved the room. "Futon, side table, lamp. Pretty sparse, 'Ro. I mean, not even a pile of clothes or chair to catch them."

"I hang them in the wardrobe."

"Of course you do."

What were we doing standing there discussing my interior design scheme? I was avoiding making the next move. As much as I'd looked forward to getting my hands on Duo, now that I had, I wasn't so sure about the next step.

I felt his hand on my hip, his thumb rubbing the skin above the waistband. I shivered. I was hot. I was cold. I was scared shitless.

"Hey. You kinda zoned out on me. You getting' second thoughts about, um…me?"

Second thoughts? Give this up? No! I had many thoughts, none of them about stopping what was going on with him. All fear of what was to come I basically just shrugged off there and then, making the decision to simply try to live in the moment.

"No, I'm at an impasse. Directional problems."

His worried expression blossomed into a wide smile. "I'm a bit weak at navigation myself, but I thought you were piloting just fine before, if you get my drift?"

I did and I didn't get what he meant, not crystal clearly. I wasn't sure if he was hinting at something far more sexual than what we'd been doing, or not. I decided to take his comment at face value and gestured to the futon. "Want to sit?"

"For starters." He grinned and plopped onto the bed. "Muuuch better, I gotta say." He swept a drift of hair to the side. "I really oughtta braid this up."

"I'll do it."

His arms spread, inviting me to join him, so knelt gently, one leg at a time, with him between my knees. I cupped his chin and kissed him, hair forgotten. I felt him twist in my arms, attempting to tip me over, so I let him.

"Ow-wee! Fuck this hair!" Apparently some of it was yanked in the moving process. He sat up abruptly and began plaiting it loosely. "There's just way too much and it's always in the way."

"Let me—" I reached to help, but he swatted away my hand.

"No, don't bother, I got it now. I've been doing this for years and I'm fast. Believe me, it's better roped off."

"I understand." I would miss it, but then I had the rest of him, which I dragged into my arms the moment he'd tied off the braid.

"This feels good," I confessed.

"No shit! It's taken us, like, weeks, huh? To get together."

"I wasn't sure you wanted to… or me," I said, bungling my lines.

"What? I mean, after me going through contortions to get us working three nights in a row… surveillance… together? Then the fourth came together and, fuck, I'm glad it didn't take more of those crapola jobs before we got together."

Oh! "You orchestrated all those missions to work with me, alone?" I grinned as I thought that over. "Not that I minded. I didn't question the orders."

"Heh, heh… the powers that be didn't give Jack-shit what we were doing. Une never once questioned what I was up to."

"So you wanted to, um—"don't mention sex yet, you fool, "—um, get to know me."

"Yeah, 'Ro, I did. And now I do a little better and I'd like to get on with knowin' you a whole lot more, but there's one more thing I wanna do."

I was game for anything. "Anything!"

He laughed at my poorly concealed enthusiasm. "Not talkin' 'bout sex, Heero, something unrelated. I want revenge, a little bit. I'm gonna call Quat and tell him we got out all the green."

I tried not to show my disappointment. I really was more interested in experimenting more with a nearly-naked Duo. Still, after he made his call and got that out of his system, I'd have another chance, wouldn't I? I found the thought consoling, while I watched him make the call.

"I'll put this on speaker so you can hear his death spiral. Hey Quat!"

"D-Duo? It's very, very late." Quatre sounded sleepy, and I could hear Trowa's voice in the background. "It's morning, which is worse. If he's not about to expire, tell him to fuck off!"

"I won't keep you two lovebirds. Just wanted to tell you that we got ALL THE GREEN OUT! HA! HA! How about that? 'Ro put gunk in my hair to repel the greenness and it washed out. No green!"

"Of course it came out! It was just a rinse! Oh, Duo! What kind of awful human being do you think I am? I love your hair. I wouldn't spoil your beautiful braid! I know what it means to you and I know you didn't mean to use permanent color on my babies. Besides, I can simply have them sheared. Their lovely, natural coats will grow out and they'll be good as new for next year's competition. Just beware of April Fool's day."

"Oh." Duo shut down his phone, looking disappointed. "Oh, well. At least my hair's okay, right?"

"I feel lucky," I told him.

"You do? Oh, yeah. So do I. This has been great tonight, you know?"

"Yes."

"Geez, it's late, er, early. I guess I oughtta go and let you get some sleep?"

The wind howled. I heard rain pelting the window. I wanted him to stay.

"You could—"

Pop!

The living room lights went out. The bedside clock shut off. The noisy compressor from the refrigerator ground to a halt. The glow of streetlights blinked out.

"Woo… power's gone." Duo was at the window. "It's dark everywhere. Must be a big deal. Some tree or worse."

"Dangerous driving. You should stay here."

The futon dipped and there he was at my side. Warm. "Okay."

No matter what happened from here on out, I already felt that this _was_ my lucky day.

**The End.**

**Have a happy, lucky St. Patrick's Day of your own!**


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